


The Honeymoon Suite

by elementalram



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Hotel Sex, PWP, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalram/pseuds/elementalram
Summary: It's wintertime. The Professor and his dutiful assistant are out of town to examine a new archeological discovery, but first, they need to book a hotel.  When the concierge tells them that the only room left is the honeymoon suite, Emmy makes a rash decision that ultimately leads them to the best discovery of their careers.
Relationships: Emmy Altava/Hershel Layton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	The Honeymoon Suite

At the concierge’s words, Emmy felt her face grow warm.

“Y-you mean to tell me that this hotel has a honeymoon suite, and that… _it's the only room left available tonight?”_

“Yes, ma’am, that’s right. But rest assured, you and your husband will have a splendid night.”

“ _Husband_ —?”She followed the concierge’s gaze and turned to look.There, now coming through the double glass doors, was Professor Layton, her longtime work partner and friend, with his trunk and her luggage in each hand. His shoulders and top hat were dusted with white, powdery snow.Despite the chilled air, he approached her with a warm, yet unsuspecting, smile.

Emmy felt a flutter in her stomach as this man, the world-renowned archaeologist and tenured professor at London's finest university, came to a stop beside her. How long had she wished to have him, to hold him, to taste him? To feel his body beneath, on top of, and inside hers, and finally _take_ him?Visions flashed in her mind of his naked body sprawled out before her on the luxurious comforters of the honeymoon suite.Absentmindedly, her hand glided over her stomach and before she knew it, the words were already leaving her lips.

“Hershel, _honey_ ,“ she started, secretly delighting in the look of surprise that flashed across his face. “It looks like the only room they have left is the honeymoon suite.But you don’t mind, do you? After all, we _are_ approaching the anniversary of the day we first met. Maybe we should take this opportunity to celebrate.”Her heart pounded fast as she reached out to lovingly dust some of the snow off of his sleeve.She let her hand come to a rest on his lower back, just above the curve of his backside.

Hershel Layton blinked several times. Without saying anything, he set the trunk down at his feet and adjusted the position of her wheeled luggage to let it rest against his thigh. He seemed to be buying time as his mind raced. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m not sure that’s altogether apropos. We’re here on business, after all.”

The concierge stepped in. “Ah, yes. We’ve had an unprecedented influx of archaeologists visiting us since the discovery of the Narleecian Tomb.But, it’s just as I told your wife, you're certain to enjoy the honeymoon suite. It has all the most wonderful amenities. In fact, in the past, we’ve had guests fly in from all over the world just to stay here on their most special of nights.”

Emmy rubbed the small of the Professor’s back in circles and sighed.“It sounds so romantic…. Will there be champagne?”

“Oh, most assuredly. A full bar, even.”

“Chocolates?”

“Sixteen different types, from Belgium, France, and Denmark.”

“And the bed...?"

“It wouldn’t be a honeymoon suite without one,” the concierge chuckled. “Ours is big, round, and right across from a stunning fireplace— perfect for cold nights like this one."

Emmy glanced up at the Professor.“Oh, can we stay here? I know we’ll be examining the tomb tomorrow, but that’s no reason why we can’t enjoy tonight.” She snaked her palm over his round backside on her way to holding his hand, lacing her fingers between his. And in so doing, she accidentally brushed his upper thigh. She felt a certain part of him pulse, _hard_.

Her breath caught. _Was he…?_

The Professor tugged on his collar to let some air in, his face notably flushed. “Well, far be it for me to keep us from enjoying what sounds like will be a lovely night. And on our anniversary? Truly auspicious.”

“Auspicious…?”

But Emmy didn’t have long to contemplate his words. The concierge happily booked the honeymoon suite for the pair, and they were soon on their way up the long staircase. The Professor, perhaps feeling overcome by the current circumstances, insisted on carrying their luggage up the steps himself, against the requests of the hotel staff member sent to escort them. Up and up they went, past the first, second, and third floors, until, finally, the escort waved them toward a set of double doors on the topmost floor. Here, he produced a key, opened the lock, and pushed the doors open.

The room had a certain old-world charm to it, with a mix of antique and modern fixtures. Wide and spacious, with enormous windows overlooking the snowy scene below, the Professor might have even called the suite cozy had it not been for one critical feature. Smack dab in the middle of the room stood a circular bed surrounded by lit candles and covered in rose petals, a trail of which started at the edge of the fluffy duvet and ended right at their feet.

Hershel Layton nearly dropped his trunk. He turned to look at Emmy, who seemed awestruck. He turned further to see the smiling face of the escort. He winked once, whispered, “Enjoy!” then closed the doors with a resounding _clunk_.

Emmy was the first to move. She kicked off her boots, hung her coat on the rack near the door, and lightly stepped onto the nearest rose petals scattered across the floor. “Wow,” she said, examining the chocolates on the bedside table. “We really ought to pretend to be a couple more often, huh?”

Silence.

“Oh, come on now, Professor, don’t be cross with me. I was just having a little fun.” She popped a raspberry truffle into her mouth.She moaned. It was sweet and smooth.

“Well, let’s not let the fun end here,” he replied. Emmy turned in time to see him down a shot of whiskey. “Emmy Atava-- or should I say, _Emmy Layton-- y_ ou’re an open book, you know.”

"Am I?"

Emmy's heart sped up as something deep in her stomach fluttered.A part of her could not deny that she liked the sound of that name. She watched him fling his top hat away onto a nearby sofa as he advanced. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear: “You’ve been a naughty girl, _'Mrs. Layton.'”_

“Oh yeah?” The edge of the bed pressed against her legs.“Well, what are _you_ going to do about it?”

His hands touched the tops of her thighs, traced the curve upward and over her waist, then rested heavily on her hips. His voice was low. “Judging by your behavior today, there may be only one thing I _can_ do about it.”

That’s when his lips met hers, softly and sweetly. Emmy's heart pounded in her chest as her knees grew weak. Was she imagining things? Dreaming? Seeking answers, and hungry for more, she wrapped her hands around his shoulders and stood on the tips of her toes to better reach him, to taste the chocolate and whisky entwined. But then, quite suddenly, he broke the kiss and stood back, then in a flash tore open her dress shirt just enough to pin her arms behind her back. Before she could even cry out, he pushed her onto the bed. The rose petals flew into the air, then softly fluttered back down all around her.

 _“_ H-Hershel!” she stammered, looking up at him, at the _excitement_ in his eyes.

He casually took off his coat and draped it over the bedpost, then leaned over her as though examining a new acquisition. Her bare torso rose and fell quickly, covered in a thin sheen of fresh sweat. She watched him as one of his hands came to a rest on the bed near her hip. The other stopped on the bed between her legs. 

“Emmy," he growled low, "Tell me now if I’ve misread your desires-- if you’d like me to stop our little game.”

“No, no, don’t stop…”

"Then do as I say, and I'll permit you to live out this little fantasy you've invented." 

She moaned as he massaged the inside of her thigh. Emmy could feel her whole body shiver and grow warm. With one hand, he deftly opened and unzipped her pants, then drew them down just enough to slip a hand beneath the fabric. She whimpered as his fingers stroked the wet spot between her legs over the soft cloth of her underwear. As he rubbed, he clicked his tongue.

"You’ve been thinking about this for a while now, haven’t you? Poor girl."

Now void of any thoughts but one, Emmy's only response was to arch her back and desperately push against him, moaning his name.He drew circles around her clit, teasing her relentlessly.No matter how she twisted, she couldn’t quite get his hand in the right spot.Frustrated, she flopped back against the bed and huffed.

“Patience is a virtue, my dear.” 

“Dammit, Hershel—!”

With a chuckle, the Professor leaned in to kiss her stomach.The gentle touch tickled her bare skin and she writhed beneath him all the more.Finally, he pushed aside her underwear to rub her swollen bud with his thumb, toying with it, rubbing it over and over again.Emmy bit back a moan, trying not to let him win this little game as one finger finally slid inside, then another, gliding in and out in time with his motions over her hardened clit.

Emmy rolled her head back and groaned loudly, giving into temptation and doing her best to ride his fingers as much as he would allow.Then, with her eyes still closed, she could feel the mattress depress near her hip.She opened her eyes just a peek to see him sitting beside her, watching her body wriggle and gasp and push against him. 

He leaned over her and kissed her again, this time on the lips.His kiss was delicate, gentle, soft.Emmy closed her eyes again and breathed deeply.Soon, his mouth left hers to seek out the sensitive skin under her jawline, along her neck, and over her torso.Meanwhile, she could feel herself nearing the edge of the precipice.The Professor must have sensed it too; he kissed the top of one breast, softly whispering promises as he flicked her hard nipple with his tongue.

Just then, her whole body seemed to tighten up and she cried out his name over and over again.Pleasure coursed through her frame, wiping every thought from her mind but one.And then, slowly, her breathing steadied and she opened her eyes to see the Professor in the flickering glow from the fireplace.His face was unmistakably flushed, enamored, and hungry. Her arms were still pinned beneath her by her shirt— a fact which was not lost on either of them.

She eyed his hard cock still closely confined by the fabric of his pants.She swallowed.Despite the heat that she still felt in her belly, despite the friction that she just felt between her legs, and despite the climax she had just experienced, she craved more.

Wordlessly, she rolled over onto her stomach and wiggled her rear just enough to get her pants to slide down a bit further.With the side of her face firmly pressed into the soft bed, she could just make out the form of Professor Layton over her shoulder.She heard a long _ziiiip_ , then the rustle of sheets, and closed her eyes as the bedsprings creaked beneath them.She gasped as she felt his fingers loop through her panties and slide them down to her knees.Then, his long, hard thickness slid over her clit and between her legs.

But there, he stopped.Frustrated, Emmy opened her eyes again, but her frown quickly faded as his face came to view.He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Emmy, you’re too beautiful,” he whispered.

And before she could respond, his cock finally drove into her.She cried out his name as his grip tightened around her hips.He slammed into her again and again, maintaining a speedy rhythm.She moaned into the blankets, savoring each thrust into her body.

Finally, the Professor reached down and tugged her shirt off her arms until it fell in a pile on the bed.Emmy, suddenly realizing she was no longer bound, smoothed her hand over the soft blankets.An idea came to mind.

In a flash, she had the Professor flat on his back.Before he could register a response, she tied his hands to the bedpost with her own shirt and straddled him.And yet, for all her confidence and determination, she had to stop here and stare.The famous Professor Hershel Layton, her colleague, her boss, and the continuing object of her most carnal desires, was finally pinned beneath her.

His chest quickly rose and fell.He pulled lightly on his constraints.“Emmy,” he finally panted. His tone was pleading.

But should she give in just yet?The look in his eyes and the heat in her belly told her yes, but there was one thing she wanted first.Circling her long, black hair behind her ears, she leaned over him and placed her hands on his chest.The feeling of toned muscle beneath his tan skin was utterly sublime.Her hands moved downward, downward, and downward still, until they came to a rest just below the curve of his pelvis. 

“Now, what was it you called me earlier?”she asked.

“ _Emmy_ —“ His tone was more warning than answer.

“No, no, that’s not it.You called me something else when we first arrived.What was it again?”

Perplexed, he raised an eyebrow.Suddenly, he grinned.His deep voice rumbled: _“Mrs. Layton.”_

“Yes.”Emmy gripped his long, thick cock, still slick from before.She stroked it from base to tip, savoring each and every inch.“Say it again.”

_“Mrs. Layton—“_

She stroked him again, this time pressing her wet folds up against his thickness, and reveled in the deep moan that escaped his lips.Once more, she made him say it, and at his acquiescence, she quickly slipped him inside and lowered herself until their bodies were flush against one another.And the feeling —him desperately bucking below her, twitching so deeply inside of her, seeking that most animalistic of pleasures— the feeling nearly sent her diving headlong over the brink.But she held on, figuratively and literally.She closed her eyes to indulge her other senses, then gripped the bedpost.Soon, she was matching and even overpowering the Professor’s thrusts, riding him hard. 

Here, she untied his hands. Immediately, he held her hips.His grip was tight, his breathing shallow.Emmy opened her eyes to see his face flushed and covered in sweat despite the snow swirling past the window outside. _He's close_ , she thought to herself, _the Professor is close_.She moved her hands over his shoulders and rolled her hips once, twice, and then…

With a loud, deep, satisfied groan that sent vibrations through Emmy’s deepest parts, the Professor arched his back.A second later, Emmy herself felt her own body clench as pleasure flowed through her body, robbing her of any coherent thought as pleasure sparked through her center like lightning.

When Emmy finally opened her eyes again, she was glad to see the Professor’s warm smile as he looked back at her.He sighed contentedly, letting his hands slide up her arms.Softly he pulled at her shoulders and she lowered herself weakly onto his torso to nuzzle her face into his neck and plant soft kisses there.The Professor chuckled and pulled a stray rose petal out of her hair.He tossed it aside.

Emmy sighed. “It’s too bad we have to get up early to go to the dig site tomorrow. I’d like to stay like this forever.”

The Professor hugged her tight.“Then let's just stay in."

Emmy paused.“Oh?"

“Well, the concierge said it himself: there's already a number of archaeologists in town investigating that site.I propose that we forgo the whole ordeal and just enjoy what we have here instead.After all, this is much finer than anything they might have out there.”

Emmy laughed and propped herself up on one elbow.“You really are the brains of the operation, aren’t you?”

The Professor chuckled.“And you, the brawn.So how about you open up a bottle of champagne for us, _Mrs. Layton_?”

“My pleasure.”


End file.
